I have started and stopped writing this post fifteen different times. I've written as much as five paragraphs and then deleted the whole thing. I am, you might say, distractable and distracted. My children keep bursting in through the doors yelling crazy things at me. (Because apparently my children have given up speaking in favor of yelling everything.) The following are all actual things my kids have said to me in the past week: "Mom! Do you LOVE refrigerators? 'Cause I think they're AWESOME!" "I can't put my ripped jeans on Diggedy. Those are my wood working and snake catching pants. That would be disastrous!" View Post
Tub-stoppers (English Muffins with fried eggs and Canadian Bacon)
Without straining the gray matter too much, you might've guessed that I don't haul five kids out to eat breakfast in restaurants very often. Leaving aside the expense of the endeavour, can you even imagine me getting them all ready to go BEFORE I've been sufficiently caffeinated? Or before they've actually eaten? Because my kids don't budge out that door until they've consumed a few dozen eggs, half a pig and the amount of juice it takes an entire orchard to produce. And I've mentioned here before that cold cereal just doesn't cut it around here. When we have it, we tear through an entire box at breakfast. On my continuing quest to View Post